That troublesome quadruped the British Lion, generally supposed defunct, turns out to have been Scotched not killed; as he is now roaring and bellowing more ridiculously than ever, in the character of the Lion of North Britain or Scotch Lion. He is clamouring not only for what he conceives to be his proper corner on the Royal flag, but also, on behalf of his baronetage and some other connexions, for the whole territory and fishing-grounds of the Royal Province of New Scotland, as he calls it; that is to say, Nova Scotia, New Brunswick, and the adjacent regions. We expect very soon to hear this foolish old Lion roar for the moon, in a state of second cubhood. To humour him, however, it might be advisable to depict him wherever he wishes in that state of rampancy which he chooses to figure in, that is, in an attitude of rampant absurdity. * * * * * HONOURS TO PALMERSTON. It is determined that LORD PALMERSTON--who goes in attendance upon the QUEEN to Scotland--shall have the freedom of Perth. Had PAM had his own way, we take it, long ere this, he would have had the freedom of Turkey. * * * * * THE HOUSE OF FAME. DEDICATED, BY PERMISSION OF THE PRESIDENT AND COUNCIL, TO THE BRITISH ASSOCIATION. Clear, and grey the day is dawning, free from each ill-omened warning, And the sharp fresh air of morning blows upon our mountain way, As o'er brook and chasm springing, or up woody crag-sides swinging, Showers of dew and blossom bringing down from each rich laden spray; While the birds from tree and thicket greet us with a jocund lay, Merrily our band advancing, towards the mountain's summit glancing, Sees the early sunbeams dancing on a dome of burnished flame, Where, with open doors entreating our approach, a cordial greeting Angel voices seem repeating, singing, sloth and fear to shame, "Hasten! favoured mortals; hasten upward to the House of Fame!" Pausing now, in contemplation, I perceive that every nation, From each calling, class, or station, sends its quota to our band; Poets jostling grave logicians; botanists by politicians; Soldiers marching with physicians; kings, with hermits close at hand Miners, æronauts, and divers, pass before me as I stand. OWEN, with a fossil tusk or femur strides along, and BUSK a Jar has got of fresh Mollusca to sustain him in his toil; WILLIAMS, fond of vermicelli, has a mess of small Sabellæ, Serpulæ, and Terabellæ; FOWLER in his "mortal coil" Thinks he has a force sufficient any obstacle to foil. MURCHISON, with CHAMBERS walking, of striated rocks is talking; CUMMING up a glen goes stalking deer, with LANDSEER painting him; BROUGHAM here and there is tripping, up the rocks for wild bees skipping, In the brooks and fountains dipping; gazing, till his eyes are dim, On the Sun, as "Hydrostatics," "Optics," "Instincts," suit his whim. While ARAGO drags his dying limbs with us, and, though still plying